


The Wolven Storm

by theeternalblue



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-07-14 23:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7195589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theeternalblue/pseuds/theeternalblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She escapes from a future built by Viserys, believing to be capable of doing better by herself. Hiding in the North, Daenerys will start her new life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beware

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when plot bunnies run free. I'll probably rewrite it, but this is a start.

“Be a darling, and pour more wine,” Ros said to her as she chatted up some old man with yellow teeth.

The red-head moved gracefully and spoke in a seductive voice looking almost regal to her customers who would never come to appreciate all the effort Ros put in her work. Never once she wrinkled up her nose in disgust, even if she probably felt it.

“Dany?” Ros shook her empty cup and shot her a pointed look.

Daenerys tightened the scarf wrapped around her head, tucking away the few hairs that had escaped, and then grabbed a bottle of cheap wine, filling the cups to the brim.

Before leaving Essos, she never thought about ending up in a brothel. She hadn’t become a whore, but she saw their world daily. This was the place where men were in their weakest point. The women had the power, yet they couldn’t put it to use.

She barely made a living, but she had survived for the last couple of weeks. She cleaned the place and helped the girls and costumers with everything other than sex. She was basically a handmaid, and for that she hid her body under loose and shapeless clothes. Daenerys didn’t need the attention of those men – she had plans, and she was building them. Soon she’d be on her way to Highgarden and Dorne. She’d find allies and reunite them.

Ros handed Daenerys a few coins, right before walking past her to a room, dragging the old man behind her.

Honestly, the politics she’d get into and the business going on in the brothel weren’t much different – at least here everyone knew what they were getting themselves into. Daenerys still didn’t know what awaited her.

-x-

Winter town slowly filled with people. Each day more and more smallfolk arrived as winter approached. That also filled the market with more stalls and life.

“Isn’t it funny?” Ros asked with a derisive smile on her lips. “People lie at the feet of their lord, hoping for protection, while South of here they still enjoy the last of summer.”

“Do they?” Daenerys asked timidly. “Provide for their people.”

“Starks?” Ros shrugged one shoulder. “Usually. Though they say the Long Night is coming. Not even the best of lords will be able to care for everyone.”

Living like smallfolk proved to be a challenge for Daenerys. Even if she wasn’t as prideful as Viserys, blood of the dragon ran through her veins. She still felt a surge of anger at the sight of her dirty clothes, whenever she stepped on mud, when she remembered the hot baths in the house of Illyrio Mopatis, and the sweet fruits of Essos.

She was walking through the market, a heavy basket in one arm, full of whatever she could find and buy with the little the brothel’s madam had given her. She always saved a little, since the dreadful old woman refused to pay her. She’d leave soon enough, and she’d certainly take her place, but for now she was just surviving.

A man shouted, but before she could understand what was being said, a horse dashed past her. Too startled to react, she didn’t see the second one, which even if it didn’t touch her, made her lose her balance, falling ungracefully on the mud. She felt shame, and wondered not for the first time if she had been crazy for abandoning Viserys.

A third horse stopped right before her. The rider dismounted, but she didn’t look at him, too worried about picking up the food strewn on the ground.

“Are you alright?”

A gloved hand offered one of the fruits that had rolled away from her. Her gaze followed the arm up, all covered in dark grey. He was young, with dark and fiery red hair, pale skin and bright blue eyes – he stood out like he should have had. His horse was well groomed, and his clothes were simple but of great quality.

“Jon and Theon – I apologize.” He picked some more fruit from the ground and gently placed it in the basket. “Jon gets riled up by Theon on occasion.”

There was a warm smile on his face, and some people watched him with fascination, murmuring among them.

“May I help you? It’s the least I could do to mend what my brothers have done.”

“I’m fine,” Daenerys replied haughtily. “But I suppose it is the least you can offer.”

He laughed softly at her tone, grabbing the basket with one hand and the reins of his horse with the other.

She still didn’t know who he was, but of course he belonged to Winterfell. He looked the most regal she had seen anyone looked since her arrival at White Harbor.

“May I ask your name?”

“You may.” Daenerys said nothing else, only turning her head to glance at him. “But I don’t have to give it to you.”

He laughed. It was refreshing to see a smile like that – bright and with all teeth in place. He didn’t reek and his hair seemed clean. He was very different from everyone else. He should’ve looked out of place there, but instead he seemed part of the North more than anyone else.

“Where have you been? You’re late. You–“ Ros stopped as soon as her eyes fell upon the young man standing next to her. “Sire, apologize me.”

Daenerys watched with surprise as Ros made an improvised bow.

“Who are you?” Daenerys asked him, while Ros grabbed her forcefully by the arm while welcoming the basket from the mysterious man.

“Forgive her, sire. She comes from across the Narrow Sea.” Ros painted a forced smile on her face. “He is Lord Eddard Stark’s son. Heir of Winterfell.”

“Robb Stark,” he finally said with an amused smile.

That explained the looks people gave him, and his posture, the clothes and the horse. He was as royal as anyone north of the Neck could be. Descendent of the First Men, heir of Winterfell and next in line to be Warden of the North, the vastest of all Seven Kingdoms. Grandson of the Lord Paramount of the Trident. He would become one of the most powerful men in Westeros.

“What’s this ruckus?” The brothel’s madam came out stumbling and surrounded by the stench of cheap wine. “Sire! Have my girls bothered you?” She bowed the best she could, considering her state.

“No, I–“

“Are you interested in any of them?” The madam grabbed Daenerys by the hips. “Look at this one. Good hips. Nice and firm tits, even if she hides them. Exotic beauty from Essos. New, too. The best for the son of our Lord.” She grinned wickedly.

Daenerys slapped the woman’s hands away. “I’m not on sale!”

“You’ll be if he wants you,” the madam hissed. “I won’t keep feeding you for free.”

Robb looked at Daenerys before shaking his head. “Even if I appreciate the offer, my brothers wait for me. I must take my leave now. Forgive me for bothering you.” He bowed his head slightly before mounting his horse. He only looked at her once more before he rode off.

-x-

“What’s in that head of yours?”

Daenerys turned to look at Ros. The red-head was in a dress that even if expensive looking compared to what the women wore in winter town, was too provocative for them to envy it. It fitted Ros perfectly. She might’ve been a whore, but she was shrewd and knew what she wanted from life. She just made a living selling her body and experience, but it wasn’t her goal.

“Nothing,” Daenerys lied as she walked around the brothel, wrinkling up her nose from time to time, promising herself this farce would soon be over.

“Is it the Stark boy?” Ros asked in a low voice, wicked smile painted on her lips. “I saw how he looked at you.”

Yes. He was sneaking into her thoughts, but not because he had caused a great impression. Robb Stark was a prize. He could become means to an end.

“He’s the closest you’ll get to mingle with royalty, if you stay here.”

“I know.”

“But the boy is his father’s son. Too honorable.” Ros made a face and shrugged her naked shoulders.

“I thought Eddard Stark had a bastard son,” Daenerys retorted quickly, making Ros smile with amusement.

“And even that poor boy won’t dare to take a woman. He paid me… to talk.” Ros laughed. “Sweet thing. But even if the Young Wolf wanted to take a mistress, why you? Why a common whore when he can have unblemished ladies who smell like fresh oils and blush at first sight?”

As many times before, Daenerys had to bite back her tongue not to unleash her temper and reveal her true self. What man wouldn’t like to lay with the dragon? She was the last of her house. Her head had a price and her blood was tied to the Iron Throne. At her side, a man could become traitor or hero of Westeros.

“Do you think I can’t seduce him?”

Ros’ lips stretched in a conniving smile. “With my help, you’ll have him. You can get from him whatever you want. But what’s in it for me?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage to reward you.”

“No,” Ros walked towards her with long but slow steps, threatening her. “There’s something you’re not telling. Your secret seems to be more than just infatuation for a boy who lives in a castle.”

“You’re talking nonsense,” Daenerys replied before turning her back to Ros. There was not a chance she’d confess. She couldn’t. “Wouldn’t just fix my life to carry his bastard child?”

Ros snorted a cruel laugh. “Were they any other family, they’d probably kill you and make you disappear, but you might be right. They could take care of you and keep the babe.”

“Is it the only way?”

“To keep Robb Stark? No. Men are known to lose their good sense for a good fuck. Love some say.” Ros’ eyes seemed to shine as the scheming began. “You could drive him mad, make him yours. If you can take him away from his mother and make him stop listening to his father, Robb Stark could be yours to do as you wish.”

Daenerys smiled softly. “Then we should do that.”


	2. Trapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to those who wanted a sooner update. I've been slow lately.  
> Also, to those waiting for an update on my other stories, I'm writing. I am.

There was a young man who frequented Ros. One that didn’t look like the rest – old men with money to spare on a young luscious woman that in other circumstances wouldn’t look their way. This one was cocky and knew himself handsome, and it wasn’t hard to tell his upbringing had been much better than most.

Dany had seen him from afar, but she was distrustful of his true nature. She didn’t like him much – he was shameless and boastful. She was learning that those people generally hid their weaknesses behind a mask.

“Theon Greyjoy, the Stark’s ward. Son of Balon Greyjoy, which he says makes him the heir of the Iron Islands.” Ros shrugged a shoulder. “If you ask me, it should take more than blood to sit on a throne.”

Untrue, Daenerys thought. Blood was all it took. Blood spilt or running through the veins of some was the highest price to pay for a throne.

“He’s Robb Stark’s friend, and very easy to manipulate if you do it right.” Ros’ red lips curved into a wicked smile. She had already promised Daenerys there was a way to get Robb Stark into the brothel, and that involved Theon. Whatever the reason was, if Theon needed the help from Robb, the heir of Winterfell would provide it.

“What will you do?” Daenerys asked as both women hid from Theon’s sight.

“Offer you.”

“Me?” Daenerys hissed, appalled by the idea of becoming common currency. She was willing to make sacrifices to reach the Iron Throne, but giving her body to just anyone seemed disgusting.

“Not to him,” Ros chuckled. “You for the Young Wolf.” Ros looked at Daenerys and grinned cunningly. “They say he hasn’t… become a man yet. I suppose you could show him how liberal they are in Essos, right?”

Daenerys wished not to feel the heat on her cheeks. After all, she had seen so much the past weeks. She heard the stories and the crude jokes, but she couldn’t bring herself to say she was still a maiden – that Viserys had kept her almost locked away to sell her to the highest bidder.

“Of course.”

Ros rolled her eyes. “You’re just as much of a baby as that boy is, no matter how devious you believe to be.” She looked back at Theon who already was drinking wine. “But we’ll have you ready for him. To drive that wolf a little wild.” She sauntered away in Theon’s direction, making a big gesture of welcoming him.

It was extremely hard for Daenerys to understand how these women were able to put things behind and act in front of men, but she knew it was the only way they had to survive. In some way, Daenerys was thankful she had been welcome by them.

-x-

Ros offered her a dress, too tight and sensuous for her liking. Instead Daenerys chose one of the few she had saved from her escape – a loose silk dress that looked great for the weather in Essos, but here only served her for this one purpose. One of the girls helped her brush her platinum hair until it shone, and instead of expensive oils, they only boiled some herbs to make it smell fresh and sweet.

Reality seemed so much different from before. Even when Viserys and she were basically living off Illyrio Mopatis' fortune, of his courtesy, they never felt true poverty – she now had nothing but her bloodline, and even that seemed a burden. She only had these women who were supporting her, and also hope, ambition for what was rightfully hers.

“How do you know they’ll come?” Daenerys asked Ros, as the latter was painting her lips in a bright red color.

“They will. Theon wouldn’t let the opportunity pass.”

“What did you offer him?”

“Me? Nought. It’s what he could get. How he’ll look in the eyes of the Stark heir. Theon wants to belong, and promising you as a gift seems to be a good start.” She turned to look at Daenerys. “Apparently the Young Wolf has been thinking about you as well. At least he made some questions.”

Well, that was good, wasn’t it? He was interested, which could mean it’d be easier to trap him in her web. She only doubted her prowess. She had never tried to seduce a man before, though he hardly qualified. The thought of them being right in the limit between childhood and adulthood made things less clear. How were they supposed to behave? Innocent or eager to learn?

Daenerys only hoped Robb Stark was like everyone thought he was. Honorable and kind. She would become the heartless and conniving one, right after looking into his soul. She’d be true one time, this one time so the lies would disorient him. He’d forever look for the same girl, but she’d be gone. Dany was sure of it. Once she took this step, she knew her life would take a different path.

Outside a light rain was falling, but through the clouds, the moon and stars shone bright.

“Would you go to your room?” Ros said as she stood up. It wasn’t like she had a room, but for this time, it would do. “I’ll send him in when he arrives.”

“What if–“

“He will be here.”

Part of Daenerys wished for him not to show up. Part of her wanted this plan to fail and have reasons to say she couldn’t keep climbing up to the throne. She was scared. But the Dragon couldn’t let that stop her. She was the Dragon. She was a direct descendant of Aegon the Conqueror and this wouldn’t deter her.

She walked down the hall and into the only room with a hearth the brothel had. The one reserved for the best customers, the women said, and yet it was probably only the size of an eight of her old chambers back in Essos.

It seemed like an eternity had passed as she looked at the dancing flames in the hearth, but the door finally opened and revealed a nervous Robb Stark. It was almost laughable, but she felt just like he looked.

His bright blue eyes were wide. His hair looked darker now that it was wet with the rain. And despite looking hesitant, his presence was overwhelming – he seemed so big covered in furs, dressed in dark grey. He was a wolf lurking at the edge of a forest, curious of this stranger.

“My lord,” Daenerys babbled.

Instead of straightening his back and take a prideful stance, Robb Stark grinned amusedly.

“What happened to the cheeky girl I met at the market?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle. Maybe he was kind. Maybe people were right.

Daenerys saw him pulling his gloves off, shedding the furs pinned at the shoulders and he became more mortal then. His steps were sure but careful as he approached her.

“I wondered about your name, and if I’d see you again. You’re a rare sight for places like this.” He tentatively reached for her hair, running his fingers through it as softly as he could, making her shiver. “I apologize,” he said, taking a step backwards. “I wasn’t invited.”

“I was given to you,” she replied. The words left a bitter aftertaste in her mouth.

“I will not force you.” His brow furrowed with what looked like anger. “I’m not… I’m not that kind of man.”

She laughed almost sadly. “What other reason you have to come here then? I know Theon promised me to you, as a gift. And what kind of man dishonors another by refusing a gift?”

“The kind that doesn’t believe people are gifts. They can’t be bought and given away.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you.” His eyes and words were honest. Daenerys could see it. And he kept his distance as if afraid she would reject him. “I wanted to talk to you. I’ve never met anyone from Across the Narrow Sea. I want to know you.”

It was her who approached him this time. With her hand she reached for his reddish brown locks, soft under her touch. He smelt of smoke and fresh herbs. The hint of stubble peppered his face. The lashes framing his eyes were thick and long. Robb Stark was a beautiful man – it seemed dangerous that he also was gentle and honorable.

“My Lord–“

“Robb,” he whispered as Daenerys’ hands traced the shape of his face. “When no one is listening, when the night has fallen and the wind carries away your voice, just call me Robb.”

Her hands traveled down his neck and fell upon his chest.

His words told the true nature about this encounter. It was as illicit as he made it sound. But he didn’t know half of the secret. He was completely unaware of the true implications of what they were doing.

“Dany. You may call me Dany.”

She rose on tiptoes and tilted her head back, pressing her lips against his. His hands tangles in her hair and wrapped around her waist. Robb kissed her back, tentatively at first, exploring with cautious curiosity. But then his wilder side showed, and his kisses and caresses became hungrier and eager for her.

“Who are you?” he gasped between kisses. “Why did you come here?”

“Does it matter? Will you look at me differently for where I come from or for the blood that runs through my veins?”

He sealed his fate with one word. “No.”

“Don’t ask the questions with answers you don’t want.” She pushed herself away from him and took the sleeves of her shift, sliding them off her shoulders to shed her dress. “Now, tell me what you really want.”

-x-

She knew this wasn’t supposed to end like this. Daenerys knew it because of the other women – she refused to call them whores now, because even if they were, they also were more than that. Robb wasn’t supposed to stay all night. He shouldn’t.

“You didn’t tell me,” Robb whispered with her in his arms, his hand idly rubbing her naked back. “Why making me believe you… worked here?”

“I do work here. I just hadn’t laid with a man. How can that bother you?” She marveled in the details, in the moles and freckles on his skin. Robb’s warmth also kept her calm and prevented her from leaving his side.

“I feel I’ve robbed you from something special. Something that wasn’t mine to take.” His hands stilled, and his eyes were lost in some spot on the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have.”

She leaned over him and kissed him. “Don’t regret it. It was my choice. I chose you.”

Robb’s smile was strangely sweet and pure, like no man’s should be. His hand traced the edge of her ear, pushing her long hair over one shoulder. His eyes looked into hers and Daenerys felt true fear for the first time since arriving to Westeros – she feared he’d know her true intentions, because it looked as if his gaze could pierce through her soul.

“What’ve you done to me?”

She smiled hesitantly at him.

It was then when someone knocked at the door, and a voice called, “Robb! Time to leave the whorehouse. Hurry up.”

That must’ve been Theon for the way he talked, and because no one else would dare to address him by his name.

Robb doubted a second, but then he sighed. “Will I see you again?”

“I’ll be here. If you wish to see me, I’m sure it’s easier for you to find me.”

“Dany, I do want to know you. I haven’t lied.”

She couldn’t say the same for her, so she only nodded.

Robb dressed as quickly as he could while she watched him, still covered by a thin sheet. She shivered as the warmth he had provided finally faded.

Only one look was left for them, and Robb was gone.

It certainly didn’t feel like she thought it would – this accomplishment didn’t come with a sense of victory. Her heart felt heavy, because she realized there was no way back.


	3. Runts

Somehow, he didn’t feel like himself. Robb had never been a daydreamer like Sansa – or a romantic for that matter. He had stolen kisses from some girls, and it was long ago he had started noticing girls weren’t a nuisance. Yet, not one of them had found a place in his head the way Dany had. He blamed it on the fact he hadn’t bedded a woman before, even if he couldn’t deny there was some mystery surrounding her.

“Robb!” Jon’s voice woke him up of his reverie. His half-brother was sparring with Theon in a vicious way, as usual. “What are you thinking about?”

Robb’s eyes were slightly lost. What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell him about the low-born girl from Essos who had taken him one step further into becoming a man. Even if it was expected for young lads to frolic around, Robb didn’t want people to know. But he doubted. Jon was his brother and best friend – the one closest to him.

Theon snorted with disdain. “He’s probably thinking about the whore he fucked,” the older of the three spat. At that, Robb was soon enraged. He lunged forward to grab the sword in Jon’s hand, and with it he swiftly disarmed Theon. Robb threatened him with the edge close to the neck.

“Has anyone asked you? You don’t answer for me!”

Instead of feeling at Robb’s mercy, an ironic smile appeared on Theon’s lips. “Do you like the little whore from Essos? Is that it?”

Robb pursed his lips, tempted to let his anger out.

“Was she any good for the heir of the North?” Theon taunted, but before another word could leave his mouth, Robb quickly smacked the side of his head with the pommel. Theon lost his balance and almost fell.

Jon barked a laugh.

“What’s wrong with you!” Theon shouted, as a trickle of blood started to run down his cheek.

“Watch your tongue. I’m your friend, not a troubadour for you to mock.”

Robb threw the sword away, not caring where it fell on the ground. His head was already too busy with thoughts of an exotic girl who kept him slightly on the edge.

It had already been hard for him to lie to his mother that morning. She knew him, and had also noticed the way he seemed unlike his usual merry self. She asked how he was, what he had done lately and what kept him busy, but he lied. Before he had never lied to her before unless it was to get out of trouble when he was a little boy.

Robb was not the one for secrets.

Fortunately for him, his head was dragged out of the nonsensical path when his father announced they were to accompany him for he had to execute a deserter of the Night’s Watch. Eddard Stark said it was a duty of the Lord of Winterfell to look in the eyes of the man he was about to kill and hear those final words, that a true man had to believe in the righteousness of his actions. And so Jon, Bran, Theon and he had to go and learn the honor that required to apply the law they believed in.

Of course Robb had seen this before. Not many times, but as the heir of Winterfell, he was supposed to learn everything from young age. He had been groomed to be a lord from the moment he took his first breath.

Riding calmed him. The sound of nature and the forest kept him at peace. His father wasn’t a man of many words, and the silence would’ve persisted wasn’t for Bran’s questions about one thing or another.

Theon was already rolling his eyes, while Jon kept an impassive face. Jon who wanted to make Father proud. Robb knew his brother had to put twice the effort to be praised, to receive one word or gesture of approval, but sometimes that bothered him. Did he want to best him? No. Jon would never do that. He just wanted the approval that came so easily for Robb.

In the way back home, Bran rode next to Father, talking and probably sharing the meaning of what had just happened. Would they be the same questions he had heard the first time? Why had his father traveled so far to only execute a man? Robb’s answer had surprised his father that time. _Only we can fight our battles. We shouldn’t let others do what we have decided._

It had been his mother and Maester Luwin who had taught him history and everything about rules, but his father was the one who instilled honor and duty by example.

Robb still remembered the first time he held Ice. The sword was so heavy he could barely keep it in place with both hands.

“This is lighter than all the responsibilities you’ll have as Lord,” his father said. “One day, Ice will be yours, but for that you need to be strong.”

A noise led the party to find a dying direwolf. A mother killed by a stag, with her pups around her.

Robb dismounted before Jon, and was soon looking at the newborn pups. Bran was in awe, letting his curiosity and young age show. Without fear, and despite protests of his father and Theon, Jon took a pups and handed it to Bran. It was soft and warm, licking at Bran’s hands as if looking for food.

His father wanted to slay them, claiming they couldn’t let them roam the forest for the danger they implied. Theon was the first to jump at the chance, wanting to do the job quickly.

Bran looked at Theon with more horror than when he had seen their father execute a man, and Robb thought the same. They were just pups, defenseless and orphaned.

It was Jon who convinced Father of letting the litter live.

“There are five pups. One for each of the Stark children.” Jon saw their father doubt and kept going, “The direwolf is the sigil of your house. You were meant to have them.”

And finally Father gave up.

“You’ll train them yourselves. You’ll feed them yourselves. And if they die, you’ll bury them yourselves.”

Bran’s face lit up, cuddling one of the pups – the one he had chosen for himself. “What about you?” Bran asked Jon as Robb and Theon took the other four pups.

“I’m not a Stark.”

Robb heard his brother. And even if Jon said it, Jon wasn’t a Stark just in name – or in his mother’s eyes. But Jon was their brother, which made things seem unfair. But as they left, hiding near a tree, an albino pup was found. Jon grabbed it, not gently by the skin at the back of its neck.

“The runt of the litter,” Theon said, smirking. “That one’s yours, Snow.”

-x-

Grey Wind was the name Robb chose for his direwolf. The little pup was quick on his feet, and followed Robb around all the time. His yellow eyes were always taking in his surroundings – watchful and restless. That was why Grey Wind wriggled in his arms and sniffed at the air, whimpering when Robb didn’t let go.

Robb shushed him.

They weren’t supposed to let the pups out of Winterfell, and now they were strolling around winter town, looking for a very specific girl.

Robb was about to give up on his search when he saw the glimpse of white hair he was looking for. He quickened his step and Grey Wind lifted his nuzzle in the air, as if he were aware they were chasing someone.

Around one corner of the market, Robb reached for her elbow. Dany almost swatted at him with the basket she was carrying, shrieking before he turned her to face him. They locked eyes, but said nothing as his hand slid down her arm to twine their fingers together.

Robb started walking, somehow quite confident in the fact that Dany would follow him without protest. And he had been right, because he didn’t need to tug at her arm to make her walk.

He led her away from the market and winter town – away from everyone who could see them. They went through small streets and narrow passages, avoiding people. By then, she should’ve known better – Robb wouldn’t acknowledge their relationship in public. He wasn’t supposed to mix with lowborn girls.

They found a respite in a small corner edging the Wolfswood.

“I was afraid not to find you,” Robb finally spoke, watching as Dany uncovered her hair, letting a braid fall over her shoulder.

“I was afraid when you grabbed me,” she retorted. Her breath turned into billows around her, a sign of how cold she felt.

Robb smirked and scratched Grey Wind’s ears. “I’m sorry. I only wanted to introduce you.” He saw her hesitation, how she took half step back when he offered Grey Wind for her to hold.

“What is it?”

“A direwolf,” Robb replied, taking a step closer to her. “A pup. We found a litter of them. Six. One for each of us.” He encouraged her to touch the pup, but she still remained at arm’s length.

“Aren’t they supposed to be wild beasts? Why would your father allow it?”

His brow furrows. “Because it’s the sigil of our house. Their mother was dead, and it was taking them or… killing them.” He looked at Grey Wind, unable to imagine having to sacrifice him.

“You couldn’t kill it?”

“I didn’t want to,” he responded angrily. “And if I had known you disliked animals, I wouldn’t have come with him.”

Her eyes widened while looking at him, and not at Grey Wind. “He’s a predator you refused to kill. He could turn on you. You had a chance before the risk was too high–“

“Grey Wind is my direwolf. I’ll train him, and trust him and he’ll trust me in return.” Robb suddenly understood something he had never thought about before. “Have you never trusted someone? Have faith? Have you ever had the certainty that things will fall into place and if not someone will be there for you?”

Her big eyes, shiny and vulnerable looked away from him as she muttered one simple syllable. “No.”

This time his approach was gentler. He held Grey Wind in front of her. The pup was barely more than a ball of fur with big paws and bright eyes. One day he’d be as tall as a small horse with fangs larger than a dagger – deadly in anyone’s eyes – but now he was a playful pet.

Dany put her basket on the ground and tentatively reached for the direwolf.

“Trust me,” Robb whispered as he let go of Grey Wind and motioned for her to hug the pup. “Trust him.”

She took the direwolf with some fear, but as soon as he was pressed against her chest, a stubborn and small smile showed on her lips – Grey Wind sniffed her and then licked her chin.

“He is soft and warm,” Dany mumbled while Grey Wind finally rested his head on her shoulder, finding a comfortable nest in her arms. “But he smells like wet dog.” She wrinkled her nose, making Robb laugh.

Joy found a place in Dany’s face. Robb thought about how she maybe never had the chance of being just a girl, of enjoying childhood the way he had. Yes, he was being raised to be a lord, and that implied lessons and rules from young age, but he also had Jon and Theon to play with. Winterfell was a place full of adventures for a small child, and Robb always found things to entertain himself – pretending to be a knight or reenacting historic battles with Jon.

Dany probably had none of that.

“Your hair,” Robb started once they sat on and old tree. “I had been taught only Valyrians looked like you.”

Dany kept on petting Grey Wind, and didn’t look at him as she said, “There are some of us left in the Free Cities.”

“So you are Valyrian?” Robb asked with honest curiosity, scratching Grey Wind’s snout. The direwolf tried to playfully bite his master, but Robb was quicker to pull his hand away.

“I am,” Dany muttered. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never met anyone like you. And I’ve only heard stories about Valyrians.” Robb grinned cheekily. “My Valyrian lacks fluidity and my accent is too thick, according to Maester Luwin.”

“Is it really necessary for you to learn it?”

“I don’t believe so, but it’s part of the lessons.” Robb looked down at his hands and furrowed his brow. “I suppose it made more sense when Targaryens still ruled Westeros.”

She visibly tensed. “Do you think is better now without them? Now that they’ve been killed.”

Robb shook his head. “I don’t remember anything from the war. I was a babe. My mother was betrothed to Uncle Brandon, but he was killed by the Mad King. Father took his place in all aspects of life.” He turned to her with a small smile on his lips. “I guess I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for war. I’d be someone else entirely.”

“Your father could’ve been king, I’ve heard.”

Robb’s scowl deepened. “He never approved of the way Lannisters killed Rhaegar’s children or the sacking of King’s Landing. He couldn’t let a reign be built on that massacre. He belongs here. In the North.”

“Like you do?” Dany asked him, looking at him with a expression he couldn’t quite read.

“Father would say I’m a summer boy. I haven’t survived a winter here. I guess I’ll know then. When winter comes.”

“Only the strongest survive.”

“No. Only the ones who are ready.”

“Winter is coming,” Dany said playfully, but she shivered since the air was starting to get colder. “Are you ready?”

He laughed. It startled Grey Wind, whose ears dropped. “I’m more used to the cold than you.” He took his surcoat, and wrapped it around Dany’s shoulders. “Why did you come here, girl from Essos?”

“To meet you,” she whispered before leaning forward, pressing her lips to his.

It was so easy to be trapped by her charm. Dany was exotic and captivating with a beauty he had never seen before – with a sharp mind he had never encountered. Robb was sure she realized how besotted by her he was. He was a fool. Fools lost their minds for the most ridiculous things.

Dany retreated less than an inch away from him. He could feel her breath on his skin.

Her eyes looked bright and hypnotizing. Her soft hand touched his cheek in a caress that made him lean against her, hoping to feel her close to him for a moment longer.

“Come with me,” he murmured, taking her hand with one of his, as the other held Grey Wind.

“Where?”

“Trust me.”

She hesitated for a second. Robb saw the doubt in her gaze, a fleeting sentiment that seemed to weaken when he tugged on her small hand, beckoning her to follow. It took her a moment, but she grabbed the basket she carried, and let him lead the way.

-x-

It seemed not only foolish, but dangerous of him to be doing this. Robb didn’t know what drove him to do it, but he often was carried away by his need of adventure. Mother said he rushed into things – it was the pull of the wolf blood in him. Agreeable and kind most of the time, but with terrible fits of anger, Father said when he described Robb as a babe.

Dany stopped him when she realized where he was taking them.

“No. I cannot go in there,” she hissed.

Sneaking her into Winterfell was not his brightest idea, but how else would he show her his world? How else would she know about lemon cakes and the warm walls of his home?

“Please,” he replied softly, tilting his head to the side.

“I’m not supposed to be there.”

“I know this place better than I know myself. You will never be in danger. Not with me.”

Her eyes looked at the ground, at their hands still holding. After a painful intake of cold air, she nodded, but her arms seemed stiff when he led her inside the castle. They entered through the Hunter’s Gate, quietly and stealthily. Dany looked around her with curiosity before attaching her gaze to him. They hurried when turning around the Library Tower, and dashed to reach the kitchen.

He hid her in a corner as the smells of food and the warmth of the kitchen enveloped them.

“Wait here for me,” he said before taking a step away, but she pulled of his arm to stop him. Wide eyes stared at him in worry. “I’ll be right back.” Before she could protest, he kissed her lips, and stepped away.

Mother said it all the time, he had a charm no Stark had had before him. The women in the kitchen all could be sweet-talked into allowing him to get food when he wasn’t supposed to – since he was a boy, he got away with little treats. He always asked for double to share with Jon, who didn’t dare to try to steal a crumb of cake.

He took slices of wintercake and a couple of lemon cakes, hot spiced milk and bread. He grabbed his small loot and soon went for Dany. But his blood ran cold when he noticed she wasn’t alone.

“Who is she?” Arya asked with a face sprinkled in powdered sugar, the little thief.

Dany had covered her hair once again, but her clothes gave her away – she didn’t belong in Winterfell.

“Robb!” Arya demanded again. “Why is she here?”


	4. Terrified

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait. Half of this was written, but the moment I tried to keep on writing, I lost the whole chapter – I'll only say I'm not pleasant when frustrated. Anyway, thanks to those who have patience and I hope you enjoy.

On her own. That was how she was supposed to survive.

Life had taught her a lesson. Many of them. And the first and foremost was to never trust anyone. No one. Not family or whomever. Then, why had she blindly nodded at Robb’s demand to follow him? Why had she not stopped to think in the possibilities and only let herself to be lured by bright eyes and warm touch?

“I found her outside. Freezing. I only meant to help.” Robb’s eyes couldn’t look at anyone, and only kept transfixed on the food in his hands. His brow furrowed when the little girl before him huffed. “Was I supposed to leave her there to freeze and starve?”

The girl stared at Daenerys for a moment. She shared one distinguishable trait with Robb – they seemed to vibrate as an animal awaiting for adventure. Their eyes were big as if hoping to drink in the world in one look. Curious and ready to attack.

“I’m Arya. What’s your name?”

Daenerys Targaryen. Stormborn. Rightful heir of the Seven Kingdoms. Your real Queen.

“Dany,” Daenerys croaked instead.

“Are you bald?” Arya poked at the fabric covering Dany’s hair, but Robb soon batted it away.

“Don’t be rude!” Robb hissed. “What would Mother say?”

“Yeah, what would Mother say if she knew you’re bringing random girls into Winterfell?”

Random? No. She was wrong. He had been chosen. Robb should’ve felt lucky and proud to be the Dragon’s chosen one. Yes, he would be used, but for a purpose so great, so much bigger than them, that he should’ve felt honored.

She was the Dragon. There was nothing random about that.

“She would praise my generosity.” His tone was dubitative, which made Dany smile. Arya did the same, but she laughed too.

“I know you are her favorite, but because of that she won’t be happy.” Arya put her hands on her hips, as if scolding her older brother.

Robb’s steely blue eyes held the gaze of the cold grey eyes of his sister. A battle of wills, that seemed to have no end. Perhaps the wolves were stubborn, never backing down from a fight once the decided to fight it. It could become useful in her plans, only if she managed to earn their loyalty. But how? Once she revealed her truth, they wouldn’t want to help her anymore. Unless Robb loved her. Dany was sure if he loved her, he would follow her. He was built on that belief.

“Don’t tell her,” Robb muttered. “And I won’t tell her about this.”

“This is nothing,” Arya replied.

“Or the sword and archery lessons. About going climbing with Bran.”

Arya’s cheek grew hotter, and her eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, but I would.” Robb’s triumphant grin was adorable, mostly because he was probably just teasing.

“Father would defend me.”

“That’s because you are _his_ favorite.” Robb flicked Arya’s nose, and she seemed to get angrier.

“Father doesn’t have favorites.”

Robb only cocked his head to the side. Apparently the Warden of the North had a soft spot for his children, especially the rebellious one.

Dany didn’t know what to make of it. Somehow she imagined this life could’ve been hers. She could’ve had the perfect family with siblings bickering over small things like cake and games. But then she remembered all those times she was nothing more than a burden for Viserys – he said it like she was currency, enough to buy him his place as king of the Seven Kingdoms.

“I’ll take you hunting with us. Next time. With Jon.” Robb sighed and Arya’s eyes lit up with excitement. “But you give me your word you won’t open your mouth about this.”

Soon Arya’s deep grey eyes were on Dany. She studied the stranger for a moment before nodding in agreement. The girl seemed hesitant, but the promise of a trip as one of the boys, with their freedom, forced her to cave in. After all, it wasn’t every day that a soon to be lady had the chance to do this kind of activity.

“I give you my word.” Preparing to dash out of the kitchen, Arya suddenly stopped and turned around to face Robb again. “Father wants to speak to us. He said he’ll wait until supper. He has something to inform us.” With that she left, leaving her brother with a furrowed brow.

“That’s strange. Must be something important,” Robb muttered before lending her a hand to hold. He was leading them out of the kitchen. Much like when they sneaked in, he was trying to be as stealth as possible.

Unlike Robb, though, Daenerys wasn’t curious about what Eddard Stark has to say to his children. Could it be he knew? What if someone had recognized her somehow? What if Viserys was looking for her and now there was a price for her head?

She was terrified because her plan was still fruitless. For sure Robb thought of her as fun – a young and naïve girl who was dazzled by what he had to offer and was more than happy to give him her body as reward. He was basically royalty for the North. The Starks had held the title of King in the North for many generations until Aegon the Conqueror. She knew. They were old blood and still prayed to the Old Gods. They belonged to this land.

“Dany?”

They had reached the entrance and she hadn’t noticed. Her wide eyes turned to him, making him frown as if asking if there was something wrong.

Reaching for his cheek with one hand, Daenerys smiled sweetly. “Promise I’ll see you again. Promise me one more time of loyalty.”

His frown deepened. “Why are you asking such thing?” A smile blossomed on his lips, a smile that said what he thought – she was being silly and childish, like some enamored girl. Too late she thought maybe she was becoming exactly that.

“Please. Just – just promise me.” She looked down at his hand in between the two of hers.

Robb pulled his hand free of her grasp and cradled her face in his hands. He kissed her. Her eyes closed tightly while she felt his kiss. When his warm breath bathed her cheek, she let herself sigh.

“I’m not scared,” he whispered. Did he think his sister finding out was the worst that could happen? Had her lies been so good? A scold by his mother for falling into bed with a commoner was the best he could get at the moment.

_You should be._ She pulled back and looked into his bright blue eyes.

-x-

Ros kept welcoming Theon attempting to discover which had been the big secret Eddard Stark had for his children so many nights ago. All those nights Daenerys had kept herself hidden, locked up and afraid.

There were days she was startled every time the front door opened, waiting for Stark men to take her away. Waiting for the moment they announced her head would be put on a spike for everyone to see. _This is the powerful dragon– a rat hidden inside a brothel, waiting for a death sentence._

Perhaps she had been a fool. Robb Stark was like any other man – love wasn’t a bond strong enough. Wealth, lands, titles. Those were the true foundations of kingdoms.

“He found another girl to deflower.” One of the girls was talking casually and with disdain before Ros smacked her upside the head. “What? I’ve heard worse. You know what they say about the Boltons in Dreadfort.”

“The boy’s a Stark,” Ros responded quickly.

“And she’s a whore. You cannot make her a princess,” another said.

“The best she could do is be his mistress. Work for him and be at his service.”

The words were making Daenerys sick to her stomach. She was not for sale. She was not a whore. She would rather die. But, even if once it was clear she would reveal herself and die for her crown and throne, she still had faith in Robb. Or she wished he would fight for her.

More nights passed. Dany barely ate and slept.

Ros tried to convince her to forget the Young Wolf. It had been a stupid plan. Fun, but stupid. Daenerys heard her talk about looking for a good man and leave the whorehouse behind her.

“You’re not built for this life.”

Ros was right. Dany would never have this life, but it was the only thing she could do for now. So she would wait.

-x-

“I know why,” Ros woke up Daenerys with a whisper that made her jump in fear.

“You know why what?”

Ros snorted a rude laugh as she adjusted her clothes. She looked like she had been on the job recently, obviously in a hurry to reach for her friend. It was disturbing in some sense. See how these women exchange sex for money, was it so different from those who exchanged it for power?

“I know why the Wolf hasn’t come visit you.”

“Something happened to him?” Dany leaned forward, expecting bad news.

“No. Well, not to him specifically.” Ros sat at the edge of the bed, making it creak under the extra weight. Many nights it seemed it would be its last, but the bed resisted, much like its occupant. “Theon says the King is coming. Soon. So the Starks are preparing for the visit.”

The Usurper.

“The King?”

“And his family. Apparently someone died. Someone important.” Ros huffed. “Theon speaks of many names, and sometimes of none. He thinks I’m stupid, that I don’t pay attention.”

Daenerys lunged forward and grabbed Ros forcefully by the shoulders. “You need to remember who died. Friend or enemy? At least say that.” What if Viserys had gotten himself killed in his endeavor to return? What if now she truly was the last dragon?

Ros scowled and pushed Daenerys off her with surprising force. “I don’t know. Apparently someone close to the Starks, though, because they are in mourning.”

So Robb was preparing for a visit. A very important visit considering his father was The Usurper’s best friend – the one who took the Tower of Joy, the one who could’ve been king.

“I need to see him.”

“See– Are you a goddamn fool? You cannot go looking for him.”

“I can. And I will.”

That was how Daenerys found herself wrapped in a cloak, hair neatly kept away and covered. The hood also hid her face from unwanted prying eyes.

Her feet carried her quickly through the same path Robb had taken time ago. The difference was this time she could hear voices, noises of people working hard on whatever the task was given to them. And she also heard laughter.

Each step became more hesitant than the last, but she reached the Hunter’s Gate. Trying to make herself smaller than ever, Dany managed to go through the kennels, without realizing she was being followed. Only when she reached the library tower she felt the wet nose prodding at her hand.

Grey Wind. The pup was so much bigger than last time she saw him, but those yellow eyes were the same. He was the one keeping her safe from the other direwolves, from dogs and any other danger. Dany scratched his head gratefully.

Standing there, she could see the courtyard. The ground was muddy and the sky gray, but the boys in the courtyard were laughing. Robb was standing next to another boy about his age but with darker hair and eyes. Arya was running around as well, followed by a younger boy. A little one clutched his belly laughing at the scene before him.

There was a pang of jealousy in Dany’s chest. They all look so happy, so full of life and hope – something she always craved for and imagined. Viserys returned to her mind with his hurtful words and upturned nose. _She had killed their mother. She hadn’t been born at the right time to become Rhaegar’s wife._

This was why Robb was so different from her. But she was no fool. With her family’s history, she would’ve never gotten this. She couldn’t remember anyone who had treated her kindly, drawing a sincere smile out of her or making her laugh. Only Robb. Only those who didn’t know who she really was.

A word of her name and everything would change.

She felt the weight of his gaze on her. Dany saw his small, doubtful smile. He probably thought she was upset and missing him. And yet the only thing in her head was the question about revealing herself to the Starks now, before The Usurper’s arrival, or flee, and put her plans on hold.

Out of the corner of her eye Dany saw a lady with long auburn hair, and dressed simply but with great clothes. She walked with dignity and gracefully despite the uneven ground. Lady Catelyn Stark, Robb’s mother. The older woman approached the little children and her attitude was sweet yet stern.

It would only take her to look to her left for a moment to see Daenerys.

Dany had to think fast.


	5. Never

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so I've updated. Again. A little push was the one thing missing apparently.

With eyes closed, Robb felt Dany’s body pressed against his. Both naked, both comfortable in silence as she rested the side of her face on his chest. Her hair was fanned over him and the bed like fresh snow on green and tender grass.

She was a summer child like him. Maybe all of her was just that – a summer dream.

Dany’s finger dug in between his ribs, as if afraid he’d leave again.

Breathing loudly through his nose, Robb opened his eyes to look at her. He found her lost in thought.

Sneaking out of Winterfell had been surprisingly easy that night. Everyone was distracted with the last preparations to welcome the King, and paid little to no attention to the Stark heir trying to make his way out. It was exhilarating to be led by instinct, to not follow every rule – the Wolf Blood, Father said. Wolf Blood was to blame for whenever a Stark stopped being somber and righteous, and when passion and instinct took over. Uncle Brandon and Aunt Lyanna had found their demise because of it. Arya was said to have it, as Rickon – Robb had been trained to tame it since he was a pup. But it had been too long restraining his want, his need to see Dany.

He arrived to the brothel hiding one winter rose under his cloak. Luckily Ros found him before anyone could see him. She led him to Dany’s room – awful, tiny and empty. But she was there, and somehow, he didn’t know why, Dany looked bigger and brighter than the room and the whole building. She couldn’t be contained. She didn’t belong there.

“My apologies,” he muttered as he handed her the rose. “Much has happened since we last saw each other. I would’ve come sooner, but I’ve taken new responsibilities.”

She took the rose and smiled at it. “The thought of leaving crossed my mind.” At her words, Robb throat seemed to narrow, making hard for him to find words. It was much worse when her eyes found his. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again.”

He pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, looking at her while he weighed in her words. Was she speaking the truth? Did she feel like the thought of him ignoring her was enough to change her life? Robb had always been aware she was not his – she never would be. As all high lords’ children know, there would come a time he would be promised to a woman he probably wouldn’t know or be fond of, but it was part of his duty. Commoners didn’t understand why among all the fortune and riches they had, love was scarce. But they knew how the lords only married those like them. She must’ve known it.

“There will be a time I won’t return, but this wasn’t it,” he finally said.

“What if I have to go? Would you stop me? Would you try to keep me?”

Robb buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him. He kissed her and hadn’t stopped kissing and touching her yet. He was becoming selfish and cossetted – a spoiled little lord.

It would be days before he saw her again. Maybe more than the time they just had spent apart.

The King was only three days away and much needed to be done. If anyone caught him at the whorehouse before or during the King’s stay, he wouldn’t hear the end of it. So, he had to behave, to tame the Wolf Blood. But first, he had to be sure of one thing.

“Are you leaving winter town?”

Dany lifted her head to meet his gaze. “I must at some point. My plans weren’t to stay here. I have things I must do, promises to keep.”

“Does it mean this was your farewell? At least you waited for me to know.”

She looked down at the hand pressed firmly against his chest, and shook her head. “I’m not saying goodbye to you, but next time you see me… you might not want acknowledge me.”

“Never.”

“Robb,” she pled in a tired sigh.

“Never!” he growled, sitting up. “This was a decision I made. I came to you. If it was right or a mistake… I own the consequences.”

Dany said nothing and only put distance between them. Leaving the bed, she stepped away from him and covered herself with a robe. The room didn’t allow her to move much, but he could tell she wanted to pace around – her head was filled with something that worried her, and she didn’t want to share it with him.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” she muttered, without looking at him.

“Then tell me.” Robb found her staring at him as he moved to retrieve his clothes. “Explain what it is that’s bothering you. What are you hiding from me?”

“Nothing!” she hissed. “Nothing, but you seem to be blind to the truth.” Dany stood right before him. Robb was half-dressed, with his chest bare. “You know who I am. I’m sure you could figure it out if you let yourself. You’ll know who I’m not.”

“You’re speaking in riddles,” he spat angrily. What did she want? Theon had said that women like that – _whores after lords_ – only wanted to boast about it and get gifts and be paid handsomely to stay quiet. But Dany hadn’t been sold to him. And he hadn’t given her expensive gifts – only silly things like food and flowers.

“I’m a valyrian girl from Essos,” she replied in a small voice. “Look at me,” Dany demanded, but when he ignored her and just kept on dressing to leave, her voice grew louder and more urgent. “Look at me!”

Defiantly, he did as told.

“If nothing else of me was known. If you had never spoken to me. With only knowing that, and seeing me as I am now, who would you think I am?”

“What?”

“I was born in Westeros, Robb.” She lifted her head to look at him, eye to eye. Her back was straight and rigid – a regal posture. Her gaze was challenging him. “I ran away to Essos. You know who I _truly_ am.”

And he knew, but he wouldn’t let himself admit it. The pieces fit together, but if he said it, then it would become a real possibility. He couldn’t be this much of a fool.

What had he done?

-x-

How to quiet the mind? Robb wasn’t sure, but he hadn’t done a good job with that self-imposed task. His mind couldn’t stop thinking about Dany and everything she implied.

That night he had left without words, just trying to figure out how he had overlooked all the signs. Was his desire stronger than his wits? Had he been blinded by her beauty? Those wouldn’t be enough reasons to explain his acts – it certainly didn’t explain why he looked for her, why he could spend time talking and laughing with her.

Father won’t forgive this mistake. Mother won’t ever look at her eldest the same again.

“Yield!” Jon called playfully as Robb lost his practice sword. Again.

The best option for him to clean his thoughts was to fight, to tire his body with practice and games. So far, that wasn’t going well either. Jon had won for a second time, and this one would earn him a scold from Ser Rodrik.

Robb looked at his brother – half–brother, but all the same to him – and decided not to quit the fight. Instead, Robb forced Jon to stumble when he nudged the legs of the would-be-winner with his foot. Jon tried to remain standing, but that was enough time to retrieve his sword.

He didn’t like to lose – much like Brandon, Father said. But Uncle Brandon was a great swordsman, and Robb still needed to learn more. More practice, with real swords.

“That’s cheating!” Jon shouted, but Robb wasn’t stopped by words.

“Life is tricky, Jon,” Ser Rodrik announced in his loud yet emotionless voice. “A fight will never be as just as you wish it to be. You need to be ready for the unexpected.”

The attack was relentless, as if all his anger and fears had finally found an outlet. Jon had no chance as long as Robb was blinded by his emotions.

“Robb!” Ser Rodrik’s voice reverberated.

“I yield!” Jon shouted, and only then Robb came to his senses. He had been so close to hurt Jon, to do something in his right mind he wouldn’t have even thought about.

Robb only watched as Jon tried to get back on his feet. It was difficult to understand the way his brother was looking at him – he had never deserved that look of disappointment before. And yet, maybe that would be all he would see from that day and the future.

The story would surely make it to the ears of his father. Ser Rodrik would let him know, worried about the outburst, about the lack of discipline that was always enforced and, more importantly, about his inability to accept such reproachable behavior.

So, when his father’s calm voice call for his name, Robb couldn’t say it was entirely unexpected. After all, he did deserve to be scolded – no matter how much he didn’t like it.

“I know lately much have been told of what’s expected from you.”

Robb bit his tongue as he usually did. He had never been spoken about anything but what was expected from him – as heir, as man, as son, as a Stark. His life had always been shaped to turn him into the best in all aspects of life. The first. The example.

“But because of what we’ve taught you, I believe your behavior was out of line. You must be aware it was not proper, not worthy of man like yourself.”

A man. Was he a man? Sometimes he was just a boy, green and inexperienced, but when he made mistakes, Robb was called a man. As a man, he had to fix his mistakes. As a boy, he was only given a pat on the back for doing what was expected of him.

“I know, Father,” Robb replied politely. “I’ve already apologized to Jon and Ser Rodrik.” He had, because that was right. Now surely the punishment would fit the crime.

“Good,” Eddard Stark muttered in that even voice that seemed to belong to a man who knew all the secrets, a man who couldn’t be surprised. If only he knew about Robb’s secret. “You know how recognizing your mistakes, admitting to know you’ve done wrong, is what will allow you to learn.”

Robb only nodded obediently. He still missed his mother’s words, who would tell him something similar, pointing to the same message.

Yes, he might’ve been favored by his parents in some capacity, but perfection was expected in return. His siblings were allowed to not be the exemplary children, but he didn’t have that.

So as punishment, it was decided he would help Ser Rodrik in the tasks deemed necessary, and also be present during the last audience to be held before the King’s arrival. This wasn’t unusual. Part of Robb’s duties was to shadow his father to learn what would become his job in the future – but his father was healthy and relatively young, so that particular task wasn’t enforced often.

Hearing the problems of the people, being judge of some trivial issues, wasn’t what Robb thought a great way to pass time.

Farmers and owners of business, people just sought for the supposedly wise words of their liege lord, when it all was common sense in Robb’s eyes. There were times when his father had to make difficult decisions – and his word was the law to follow. Would he be wise enough to be fair when his time arrived?

“Is that all?” Eddard Stark asked loudly enough so all the ones present in the room could hear him.

“No, my lord,” a woman’s voice interrupted the sepulchral silence that had fallen.

Robb’s blue eyes widened and they searched for the origin of the reply. A shadow moved along the back wall of the room, until a figure covered in a cloak made its way to the front of the group of people. A hood covered her head, but Robb knew exactly why.

The cloak wasn’t like anything a person from Winter Town would wear. It was embroidered and the fabric was too expensive to have been bought in the North. They were simple and useful, this one had a meaning hiding.

“Reveal yourself,” Eddard called in firm voice.

Pale hands peeked out of the cloak and pushed the hood back. Her silver hair shone even under the grey light, like a beacon calling for attention. She would never blend in there, not even standing in the snow as white as her.

Robb felt his father tense next to him.

Dany – no, this was not Dany, not the girl he had bedded and talked to. The woman before him was not the same he laughed with, the one he had held hands with. Before them was Daenerys Targaryen dressed in an outfit that matched her title of Princess.

“Who are you and what do you want?”

She looked at Eddard Stark with pride. “I believe you’ve recognized me. After all you were probably one of the last who saw a dragon.” Her voice barely trembled. “I am Daenerys Targaryen. Princess Daenerys Targaryen. I’m seeking refuge from The Usurper.”

Eddard Stark quickly rose to his feet. “You’ve come to the wrong place, child.”

And Robb followed him. He placed a hand on his father’s arm to stop him when he realized the man was already decided on moving towards Dany. “Father, stop.”

“Boy,” Eddard growled menacingly at his son. “Let go of me!” He shoved Robb’s hand off him, making him lose balance.

Robb watched as his father’s long strides ate up the distance between him and Dany at great speed, and so he only had to move faster. He didn’t dare to look at Eddard in the eye when he stepped in front of Daenerys, as the only thing separating the fury of the Lord of Winterfell from the only Targaryen in Westeros.

“What have you done, Robb?” Eddard hissed, and for the first time Robb noticed that his father also had the instincts of a wolf, that he had not tamed it, but he unleashed it when deemed required. “What have you done!”

When his blue eyes met his father’s grey ones, Robb felt like a traitor.


	6. Hopeless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me forever. I'm sorry.

What was he doing?

Dany’s eyes were fixed on Robb’s back, on his auburn curls. Looking past him would’ve been too difficult – she could feel the anger emanating from Eddard Stark. She was the one to blame for his son’s treason. Robb was challenging his father to defend her, and she wanted to do the same for him. But she couldn’t. Something within her kept her from speaking or reaching for Robb.

This was the first time someone put her before anything – this was the first time she meant more than a title, power or her name. Robb had met her before knowing her name, before knowing what she represented. Or perhaps he knew. He always knew and decided to play blind to what couldn’t be denied.

“Jory,” Eddard called. “Take her away!” The older man ordered in a deep and ominous voice.

Dany felt a man’s hand on her arm, grabbing her and taking her away from Robb’s protection. A man with long and dark hair dragged her out of the room, away from the discussion that she knew would continue between Eddard and Robb. And who knew where she was being taken or what her fate would be now. She had ruined everything for everyone – hiding was just too tiring.

For a moment, Dany chose to fight Jory’s grip on her, but the struggle wasn’t for her to win. She only managed to turn long enough to watch Robb looking like an ashamed pup in front of the large and seasoned leader of the pack who Eddard Stark was.

Had she just sacrificed him for nothing? What would happen now?

She was pushed out of the room and not much more could be said or done.

As she was lead to her cell, Winterfell felt empty. She wondered if no one dared to look at her, not even to verify rumors. Perhaps she was taken away so no one could tell the truth. Would they dare to silence her? Was she the last Targaryen? And if so, would these be her last moments alive?

Daenerys was pushed inside a dark and musty cell. The air was thick and cold.

The situation was certainly worse than before. But it was her only chance. Eddard would need to keep her a secret from The Usurper, otherwise the man would surely consider him a traitor, conspiring against the Seven Kingdoms and their ruler. More so now, that the North’s heir had known about her and kept her as his bed partner.

Dany was sure Eddard wouldn’t sacrifice his children over loyalty to his King. He wouldn’t sacrifice them over anything, because the pack was first, even if the legendary Stark loyalty was at risk.

“Hey,” a whisper echoed on the stone walls, sneaking in through the thick door. “I saw you. The girl from the kitchen.”

Arya. Robb’s youngest sister.

“It’s me,” Dany answered hesitantly. After all, she didn’t know why that girl was there. Was it to ask things? Maybe they believed she would fall into a trap and trust the girl. It could be easy to tell it all after being silenced for years.

“What have you done? Why has Father sent you here?”

She chose to kept quiet again and instead she made a question of her own. “What happened to Robb?”

“He was sent to his bedchambers.” Arya kept quiet for a second, and the silence was almost unbearable. “I’ve never seen Father like that. But he looked angry at him. Has Robb done something to you?”

How– he couldn’t. “No. No, he wouldn’t.”

“I thought so, but he keeps talking about you… everyone does.”

As Viserys always said. They were the rumors and the truth; _everyone wants a piece of the dragon_.

“Is he… safe?”

“Safe?” Arya muttered with a lilt of amusement in her voice. “Mother wouldn’t let anyone touch one hair on his head. Not even Father.”

“He has done no wrong,” Dany said.

“Has he?” Another voice spoke in a commanding tone. A woman. And then the door of the cell creaked open and the warm light from the corridor fell upon Dany. “So you must’ve done something to him.”

Catelyn Stark was a beautiful woman, with regal posture and a voice as firm as her husband’s. She had been raised to be a lady. Even if her dress wasn’t embellished with gold or silver, with pearls or jewels, her presence was enough to tell this was not a common woman.

“Arya, go with your sister and Septa Mordane.”

Arya frowned, but one look from her mother was enough to send her running.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Catelyn asked as she step into the cell. Dany could see the two guards outside the cell now.

“What you want to hear and what I have to say are very different things.” Daenerys reply haughtily, even if she was afraid. She wouldn’t allow them to see she was frail. Not anymore. They didn’t know what she had to endure in life to get to this point.

“I want to know what trick or… magic from Across The Narrow Sea you have used on my son.” Catelyn’s anger showed in each word. It wasn’t needed to look at her to feel the tension in her body. “He wants to keep you safe and claims you’re innocent. But I don’t know what crime is that you’re innocent of. So tell me.”

“No magic. No tricks. But you won't believe me, because you don’t want to imagine your first born lusting after a Dragon.”

“Lust? Child, you don’t know what you’ve done.” Catelyn sighed bitterly. “If anyone knows about his treason, he could be forced to take the Black or, worse, be beheaded. But you don’t care about him, do you?”

Did she?

“He will not. Your Lord husband will protect him.” Daenerys swallowed thickly, suddenly realizing why she had confessed. It wasn’t for her safety, but for Robb’s.

What if The Usurper found her? He would want her head on a spike. And Robb, chivalrously and foolishly, would’ve tried to save her, exposing their secret and sacrificing himself for her. Out in the open, no one could’ve saved him. Not even his father. He would’ve been judged and condemned in the act.

“And what if to do that we offer you as a token to prove our loyalty? Have you thought about that?”

“I’ve been about to die since I was born, and before that in my mother’s womb. It’s not different now.” She took a few steps closer to Catelyn. “I’ve survived, and it’s all I’ve been doing since I was ripped from my mother’s arms.”

“That was your plan? To take my son’s life as revenge?”

It could’ve been, but not now. Not when she wanted to protect him as well.

“He is mine. He loves me,” Dany hisses, trying to be heartless and to hurt Catelyn. What else was left? "He would do anything for me."

“You don’t know a thing about love. He might _think_ he loves you, but you are children.”

“Isn’t that enough? He wants to save me. From your King, and everyone else including you.”

Catelyn looked at her with pity. “He will heal. His family will help him. Losing you will only become a sad memory Robb will forget about in old age. But you can’t understand that, can you? You’re just a mistake in his life.”

With that, the Lady of Winterfell turned around and gestured for the guards to close the cell’s door. She didn’t allow Daenerys to respond, and clearly didn’t intend for things to be solved. Apparently, Catelyn would be an enemy to add to Dany's long list.

* * *

 

Robb’s cheek still burned after his mother’s slap across his face. He had never before done anything to deserve that. Nothing but good things were expected from him as a child and young man; anything else was considered humorous mischief.

It was the strangest thing not to be the model son. Dread and disappointment were the only things he felt right then.

How had he gone from the exemplary young man to traitor? How only one girl had driven him to such madness? Robb knew he should’ve worried about what would happen to him, about his punishment and yet, the only thought in his mind was Dany and how to exonerate her. He could take the punishment – his parents would surely be lenient once they realized how much he cared for the Targaryen heir. But that was the main issue. Dany was a Targaryen. Nothing would save her from that name.

Pacing around the room, Robb felt the time stood still.

He needed to get out, to know what was happening.

The door was opened with barely a noise, and soon in front of him stood his sister. Arya looked like a kitchen mouse – dirty yet happy to be wandering around a known place. He was happy to see her as well. He felt moments away from losing his mind with so much thinking about consequences.

“She’s in a cell.”

“Dany? Is she safe?” Robb asked eagerly.

“Yes.” She crinkled her nose. “She asked the same about you. But I told her Mother wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”

He wasn’t so sure about that last part, but it probably meant that he wouldn’t be subjected to a serious punishment. He would be spared from being judged by the King and be deemed a traitor.

“But she’s not happy either.”

“Dany?”

“No! Mother,” Arya said rolling her eyes. “I heard her. Well, at least part of it. Just the screams. She told Dany she was a mistake in your life, after Dany said you were hers.” Arya turned around and plopped down on Robb’s bed, frowning thoughtfully. “I don’t understand anything that’s going on, but it seems more exciting than the King’s visit.”

“She’s a Targaryen,” Robb said while sighing and sitting next to his sister.

“What?” Arya’s eyes opened wide, meeting Robb’s blue eyes full of guilt.

“You cannot tell anyone.”

“Are you joking? Everyone seems to know something is wrong.”

“Not Sansa, or Bran.”

Arya snorted. “They don’t know anything about anything.” She bit her lip and meekly asked, “What about Jon?”

Robb heaved a suffering breath. “You can tell Jon.”

“Thank you.” They stayed quiet for a while, before Arya couldn’t take it any longer. “So what does it mean if she’s a Targaryen? I thought they were all dead.”

“It means I’m a traitor.”

“You? No! That’s impossible. You’re… you’re like Father. Only younger. And funnier.”

That brought a smile to Robb’s face. “I always thought Jon was more like Father.”

“In looks, yes. But he’s reckless and impatient, like me. You weren’t supposed to be like that.” In a very uncharacteristically reaction, Arya turned to hug him. He had never been her favorite among their siblings, perhaps because he spent his time studying to become a lord, or because he was the one who followed all the rules – up until then.

Robb hugged his sister fiercely. “If anything happens to me–“

“What?”

“Just take care of Grey Wind. And he’ll take care of you.”

“Nothing will happen to you. Father is angry but–“

“What I’ve done won’t be easily forgiven, so my punishment might not be as light as a scolding. I need to know I can trust in you, Arya.”

“Always.”

“Now go, before Father or Mother find out. I don’t want to get you in trouble.” Robb watched her sneaking out as silently as she had arrived. And meanwhile, his mind went back to thinking how his life had so quickly turned upside down, all because of a woman who had blinded him.

He needed to see her. He needed to know why.

But before those questions could be answered, he had to face judgement.

The door opened once again, but this time his father came through the door. “Prepare your things. You’re going to Riverrun.”


End file.
